French Cooking and Fibs
by Susan M. M
Summary: Ezra Standish is the guest of honor at a shotgun wedding.  First story in the Mrs. Standish AU series.  Ezra/Mary Sue
1. Guest of Honor at a Shotgun Wedding

**Mrs. Standish AU:** Chapter 1, _French Cooking and Fibs_

Magnificent Seven

**Standard Fanfic Disclaimer **that wouldn't last ten seconds in a court of law. These aren't my characters, other than the heroine and her kinfolk. I've borrowed them for, um, typing practice. Yeah, that's it, typing practice. I will return them to their original copyright holders relatively unharmed (or at least suitably bandaged). Be warned: this is the first story in a series that I've been working on (off and on) for the past few years. This story was originally published in the fanzine Let's Ride #6, published by Neon RainBow Press. Be warned: This is an AU. This is a Mary Sue. If you don't care for AUs or Mary Sues, you won't hurt my feelings by reading something else.

**by Susan M. M.**

Chapter One of the Mrs. Standish AU:

**_French Cooking and Fibs_**

_March 21, 1878_

Ezra Standish sipped his bourbon. The saloon was dingy and dirty He'd never permit such squalor in his place, but the Kentucky bourbon was first-rate stuff. Even if he did have some doubts as to the hygiene of his glass. It was good to get away from his sanctimonious colleagues for a few days of serious card-playing, without being expected to play knight-errant.

"Not very many customers tonight," he observed. The gambler was dark-haired and handsome, though not tall. Neither slender nor stocky, he was medium of build as well of height. His black hair, green eyes, and fair complexion bespoke an Irish ancestor.

"Maybe you scared them off," joked a man drinking beer.

The bartender shook his head. "Dance tonight. Half the town is dosey-doing."

Ezra thought a moment. There were few men in the saloon, and none of them rich enough to play for the stakes he preferred. Since it would be a waste of his time to try to strike up a penny-ante poker game, he might as well invite himself to the dance for some gentle exercise and female companionship. He glanced down at his attire: black linen trousers and jacket, red silk brocade vest, and a white linen shirt. When playing cards with strangers, it was always best to look as though he could afford to lose. He was definitely gussied up sufficiently for a dance, indeed, probably overdressed for a cow town square dance.

After several reels, square dances, and one waltz with a local belle completely devoid of grace, Ezra took his trod-upon toes outside. He lit up a cheroot.

A few moments later, a carrot-haired girl in a blue plaid dress came out.

"Evening," Ezra greeted her politely. "I hope my cigar won't bother you."

"Oh, no, not at all. I just came out for a breath of air. It's so dreadfully warm in there," she said. Nonetheless, she made sure she was upwind of his cigar.

"It is," he agreed.

She strolled along the side of the building. Suddenly, she tripped and fell.

Ezra threw his cigar to the ground and hurried to help her up. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Get your hands off my cousin!"

Both turned to see three men behind them. An ox of man was bellowing at them. With a sense of dismay, Ezra recognized him as Carl Henshaw, a man he'd been warned by the barkeeper to avoid.

"Carl, I fell. This gentleman helped me up," she explained, keeping her voice calm and quiet.

"Don't you lie to me, Rina. I saw him with his paws all over you," Carl accused.

"Sir, I resent your insinuations," Ezra replied.

"That's my cousin you're insulting with your attentions." Carl pulled his gun out.

"Round here we know how to deal with folk who don't know how to treat decent women," added one of the other men. He drew out a gun hidden beneath his jacket.

"What you want us to do, Carl, shoot him or string him up?" asked the third.

"Gentlemen, there's no need to be hasty." Ezra thought of the derringer tucked up his sleeve. He hesitated to use it when he was outnumbered three to one, and two of them already had their sixguns out. His derringer held only two bullets.

"Carl, he didn't do anything. I just stumbled. He helped me up. That's all that happened." Rina explained in the slow, patient tone one would use to a not-too-bright child.

"That proves you two had an ass-ig-ee-na-shun," Carl declared. "If he didn't mean anything to you, you wouldn't care if we shot him or not."

Ezra just stared at Carl Henshaw and his sidekicks, dumbfounded by his 'logic.'

"I recognize him," the third man said.

"Oh? Who is he, Jake?"

"Cardsharp. Been in town a few days, cheating honest people out of their money," Jake Barnes said.

"I did not cheat!"

"Can't trust a cardsharp," Carl said. "Can't trust him with cards or women."

"He compromised you, Rina. He's gotta pay," the second man said.

"Daniel Henshaw, are you deaf or just stupid? I told you, nothing happened."

"Don't you try to protect him," Carl scolded. "Nobody messes with a Henshaw and gets away with it."

"Nobody," Daniel repeated.

"He compromised you, Miss Rina. If he won't do the honorable thing, then he's gotta pay the price," Jake explained, now treating her like a dull child.

"Do the honorable thing?" Daniel repeated.

"Make an honest woman out of her." When Daniel and Carl still didn't seem to get it, Jake said, "Marry her."

The two Henshaws looked at each other, mulling over this possibility. New ideas, Ezra thought uncharitably, seemed to be something the Henshaws had difficulty with.

"What do you think Gram would say about that?" Carl asked.

At the mention of Gram, Rina stopped protesting. She looked up at Ezra speculatively. The gambler was reminded of the time he'd seen a rancher examining a prize bull, trying to decide if one he-cow was worth a year's pay for one of his ranch hands.

"Gentlemen, this is all just a misunderstanding," Ezra said.

"Put your guns away. I'll marry him," Rina offered.

"Miss, we haven't even been introduced," Ezra protested.

"I couldn't stand to have your death on my conscience. They're not joking. They've killed before, for less reason."

Carl stuck his gun inches away from Ezra's face. "Which'll it be? You gonna see the parson for your wedding or your funeral?"

Gulping, Ezra chose. "Wedding."

"I'll go fetch him," Jake volunteered. Carl and Daniel Henshaw kept their guns trained on Ezra. The gambler kept waiting for them to relax their guard, so he would have a chance to escape, or to fight back, but they gave him no opportunity.

Two minutes later, Jake came back with a scrawny middle-aged man with thinning hair. He was dressed in unrelieved black.

"Rina Henshaw, I'm surprised at you. I thought you had better sense than to get involved with such a rogue."

"There's been a dreadful misunderstanding, Reverend. I did not-" Ezra began.

"There certainly was a mistake, if you trifled with Miss Henshaw," the parson interrupted him.

"I did not trifle with the lady. I merely –"

"Hush afore we shoot you," Daniel ordered.

Ezra hushed. Seeing no other options, he let them escort him to the church. His mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this mess. This was the sort of situation he'd expect his friend Buck Wilmington to get himself into. Without Buck and Chris and the others to back him up, outnumbered, outgunned ... As a professional gambler, years of experience had taught him when to play and when to fold. Compliance seemed his best course of action, for the moment.

As soon as they reached the church, the parson started the ceremony immediately. He did not bother with a prayer-book, but recited the vows from memory. Neither the Henshaws nor Jake put their guns away. Although Ezra's experience with weddings was limited to attending two or three of his mother's, it seemed to him the parson was leaving things out. Wasn't there supposed to be a bit about 'if any know why this man and this woman should not be joined, speak now or forever hold your peace?'

"For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as ye both shall live?"

"I do," said Ezra grudgingly, not bothering to hide his reluctance and distaste.

"The ring, please."

Daniel and Carl looked at each other. Biting back a sigh, Ezra pulled a gold signet ring, inset with black onyx, from his pinky and placed it on her finger. "With this ring..." he recited mechanically after the parson.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Rina looked up at him expectantly, almost eagerly. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. He ignored the look of disappointment in her eyes at not getting a more serious wedding buss.

"Now that we're married, can you holster the guns?" he asked, not concealing the sarcasm in his voice. From what he'd seen of the Henshaws, they were too dim-witted to catch the sarcasm.

Daniel and Jake looked to Carl for guidance. He nodded and holstered his gun. The other two did likewise.

The parson held out his hand. "An honorarium is customary at this point."

"A what?" Carl asked.

"He wants to be paid." Ezra dug into his pocket and handed the man a silver dollar.

'May I go now?"

"Just a minute, just a minute. You need to sign the parish register first. Mr. Henshaw, you'll need to sign as witness."

Ezra scrawled his name quickly and sloppily, remembering his mother's advice that if they can't read your signature, they can't prove it's you. Rina, Carl, and Daniel Henshaw signed after him.

Rina grabbed Ezra's arm. "If you excuse us, my husband and I have some things to discuss."

"We certainly do, madam."

Ezra led her to his hotel. The night clerk stared at them, bug-eyed.

"Miss Henshaw!"

"Mrs. Standish," she corrected him primly. The clerk stared as she walked up the stairs, her hand resting on Ezra's arm.

"You realize now that you've been seen accompanying me to my hotel room, you're well and truly compromised," Ezra warned her.

"Doesn't matter now. We're married."

'I did not compromise you half an hour ago."

"No, but my cousins think you did."

"At their ages, they should know where babies come from. You do know, don't you?" Ezra asked, suddenly frightened that he was tied not only to a virgin, but an ignorant virgin.

"I have a vague notion, but I'm sure you can show me later."

"No, thank you, madam. That will make it impossible to have this annulled."

"Annulled?"

"As quickly as possible, madam, as quickly as possible."

"Forgive me for being vain enough to think that matrimony with me was preferable to being shot," she replied sharply.

Ezra took a deep breath. He looked his wife over: a plain girl, no, woman, she was older than he'd guessed at first, with carroty hair and hazel eyes. Her scrawny frame was too thin to inspire lustful dreams. "I appreciate your rescue; I don't mean to seem like an ingrate. But surely you can't wish to be tied to a total stranger?"

"Mr. Standish, it's late. The stagecoach leaves town at 7:00 AM, and I think it would be a very good idea for us to be on it. Contrary to what Carl and Daniel think, Gram will not approve of our marriage. I want to be as far away as possible when she finds out. Perhaps we should get some rest?"

By Ezra's standards, the night was still young, and he was not in the least tired. However, he was not a morning person. The notion of waking at 7:00 was distasteful enough. Being alert and active at that hour ... he shuddered. Rest might be a good idea. Perhaps he would wake in the morning and find out this was all a nightmare.

"You may have the bed, madam. I'll sleep in the chair."

"Even if you didn't want to claim your - your husbandly prerogatives," Rina blushed over the euphemism, "there's still enough room for two."

Ezra had no intentions of letting anything get in the way of an annulment. "No, thank you, ma'am." Ezra sat in the chair next to the chest of drawers and starting laying out a game of solitaire. He couldn't help noticing her reflection in the mirror as she removed her dress and slipped into the bed in her petticoat.

"If you change your mind, Mr. Standish ..."

Ezra shook his head. It wasn't often he turned down a willing woman, but under the circumstances, no. "Sleep well."


	2. On the Road

"Mr. Standish?"

Ezra murmured something incoherent.

"Mr. Standish, you need to wake up. I brought you some breakfast and coffee."

He forced his eyes open. "For the coffee, at least, I thank you." He saw his bride standing over him, wearing the same dress she had last night. "It wasn't a bad dream."

"I didn't know what you wanted for breakfast, Mr. Standish. I got you some toast and eggs," she said.

"I rarely partake of food this early, madam. Coffee will be sufficient." He stood and stretched. "Do we really need to take the first stage? Isn't there a later one?"

"Yes, but by then Gram will have found out what Carl did. I want to be well on the road before she notices I'm missing."

"Just what will your esteemed matriarch do when she learns what happened?"

"I don't esteem the old bat. I'm scared of her, just like everyone else in the county. But in an hour or two we'll be out of her reach, and hopefully she'll be vexed enough with Carl and Daniel that she won't bother coming after us," Rina said.

"What is it about your relatives that so terrifies everyone?"

"Gram owns half the county. She may be getting on in years, but she runs her ranch – and everyone else's affairs - with an iron hand. And Carl and Daniel - you saw what they're like. No one dares say no to them, or any of their brothers."

"Are the Henshaws entirely sane?" Ezra wasn't sure, but he had a vague notion that a marriage could be annulled on the grounds of insanity.

She shook her head. "Why do you think everyone's so scared of them?"

"Would you be so kind as to turn your back? I'd like to change clothes."

"Dress quickly," she urged. "The stage will be leaving in a few minutes."

He obeyed, and swiftly packed everything into his carpetbag. They made the stage just in time.

"We appear to have the stage to ourselves," he observed.

"So nice for newlyweds to have a bit of privacy," she agreed.

Ezra didn't want to touch that with a ten-foot-pole. "Is your grandmother is opposed to gamblers in general, or just to the fact your idiot cousin thinks you were compromised?"

"Gram doesn't want to lose an unpaid abigail and amanuensis. She's done everything she can to stop any boy from courting me since I turned sixteen. If it was one of the ranch hands, then Henshaws don't marry the hired help. If it was someone else, she found another excuse. Her mind is still as sharp as a tack, but her hands are crippled by arthritis and her eyes aren't what they used to be. She made me her 'little helper' when I was a girl, after my mother died. Now that I'm grown, she doesn't want to let go. Any one else would need to be paid, you see, nor would she want to trust a stranger with family secrets."

"Sounds like a lovely woman." Ezra glanced out the window. "I can see why you'd be willing to marry a total stranger to escape."

"Mr. Standish, you don't hold yourself in sufficient esteem. You're a fine, handsome gentleman. Any woman would be proud to be your bride."

The gambler sighed. His bride seemed much less eager to escape the bonds of matrimony than he was.

"Mr. Standish, when we reach the next stop, would you oblige me by purchasing me a few things? I didn't dare return home for anything, and I haven't so much as a hairbrush, let alone a change of clothes."

"And I suppose that's my responsibility now?"

"With all my worldly goods I thee endow," she quoted.

"Very well, I suppose I can afford it."

She nodded. "You do look like you have more than two pennies to rub against each other, Mr. Standish."

"Under the circumstances, perhaps you should call me Ezra, Rina."

"Marina, if you don't mind."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My name is Marina. The Henshaws shortened it when I married into the family. They couldn't manage anything with that many syllables," she sneered.

"Aren't you a Henshaw?"

"Heaven be thanked, no! My mother married Carl's uncle when I was ten. I was a Sheffield by birth and I'm an Standish by marriage, and I will never be Rina Henshaw again. Marina Standish, or Mrs. Ezra Standish." She snuggled comfortably against him. "That has such a nice sound to it: Mrs. Ezra Standish."

"Don't get used to it. I'll be seeing the judge about an annulment as soon as we reach Four Corners." The reason he had taken this busman's holiday when he did was because Judge and Mrs. Travis were due in town to visit Mary and Billy, their daughter-in-law and grandson. Staying out of the judge's way had seemed a good idea at the time. He sighed. He'd never expected to be in a position where he'd be asking Judge Travis for a favor.

**MAGNIFICENT SEVEN ~*~ MAGNIFICENT SEVEN ~*~ MAGNIFICENT SEVEN**

Two hours later, they reached the next town. "Go buy yourself such falderals and furbelows as you need. I'll be in the restaurant, having brunch."

"Thank you, Ezra." She tucked the money he handed her into her pocket. "I promise to be as frugal as possible."

"You can't possibly be any more extravagant than your mother-in-law," he muttered. He shuddered to think what Maude Standish would think of this situation.

It was a full two hours before Marina reappeared, wearing a yellow calico dress and carrying a carpetbag of her own. "I am sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Stan- Ezra. But the dress had to be altered."

"The stage left an hour and a half ago."

"I know." She grinned mischievously, looking more like a girl than a matron. "And if Gram sends Carl or the others after us, they'll be following that stage west. There's a northbound stage we can take after lunch, and then change as necessary. They won't expect that."

"And where did you pick up the gift for intrigue, Marina?"

"Reading penny-dreadful romances aloud to Gram."

Once on the afternoon stage, Mrs. Standish plagued her husband with a hundred questions: his saloon in Four Corners, his plans and ambitions, his friends, his views on politics, what he had done in the war, whether or not she could have a cat, everything.

"Are you aware, madam, that in the eyes of the law, if I take a stick to you it is no one's business but my own?" an exasperated Ezra snapped.

"Yes, Mr. Standish," she replied meekly - so meekly that Ezra regretted his harsh words. "But better a battered bride than an old maid. Besides," she added more confidently, "you would never lay a hand on a woman."

"Are you so sure of that?"

"You're too much of a gentleman. It just isn't in your nature to hurt a woman."

Ezra scowled, but said nothing. His mother had brought him up to be a gentleman. It was easier to fleece a mark if he was polite about it. Then he thought a moment not about what she'd said, but how she'd said it. She had emphasized the pronoun_._

"Who hurt you, Marina?" he asked gently.

For the first time in hours, she was quiet.

"Was it Carl?"

She said nothing.

"You're safe from them now, Marina." He patted her hand awkwardly. Dealing with womenfolk was usually easier for him than this. "And you may certainly have a cat if you like. Once the marriage is annulled, you'll be your own mistress. Safe from the Henshaws, and free to choose your own path. You can marry whom you want, or find a job, do anything you want."

"I'm quite satisfied with the husband Providence gave me, Ezra. I know you can keep me safe. And I'll take good care of you, truly I will. I'm a good cook."

"There's more to matrimony than cuisine."

"Well, yes, but I'm sure you can teach me that." She smiled up at him shyly. "Carl said I was an old maid, but I'm young enough and strong enough to give you children. Lots of children."

"Unnecessary. I am not paternal by nature."

"You may change your mind in nine months."

Ezra shuddered.


	3. Judge Travis

The stagecoach drew to a halt. "Four Corners," the driver called.

Ezra clambered out, then helped Marina out. He took her carpetbag in one hand and his in the other. "Let's find you a room at the hotel."

"No, Ezra. No more hotels. We're home now," she said quietly, but firmly.

"Ezra, hey there! Welcome home." A tall, dark-haired man with a thick mustache greeted him warmly. "Who's your friend?" He touched his hat.

"Mrs. Standish, may I present my associate, Mr. Wilmington? Buck, my wife."

"Your what?"

"How do you do, Mr. Wilmington?"

"I need to see the judge right away. Where is he?"

"Over at Mary's," Buck replied, still stunned by Ezra's introduction.

Ezra led his wife to the newspaper office. "Mrs. Travis, may I speak to your father-in-law?"

"What is it, Mr. Standish?" Judge Orin Travis stepped into the front part of the office. He frowned; he and the gambler were not friends.

"I need your assistance on a legal matter."

The judge raised one gray eyebrow.

"Actually, I need a favor. May we speak in private?"

"Certainly. Mary, you won't mind if we go back by the press room, will you?" the middle-aged man asked his daughter-in-law.

"Of course not." The blonde tried not to stare at the strange woman with Ezra. But when he didn't introduce her, she stepped forward and held out her hand. "I'm Mary Travis, editor of the _Clarion._"

"Marina Standish. Mrs. Ezra Standish," the redhead clarified as she shook hands.

Orin and Mary Travis were both taken back at that announcement.

"That's what I need to talk to you about." Ezra gestured to the judge to precede him. Marina started to follow after them. "In private, I said."

"This affects both of us, Mr. Standish."

"Why is it when it's something you want, you're quite capable of remembering 'with all my worldly goods I thee endow,' but when it's something I want, you seem to forget 'love, honor, and obey'?" She looked up at him without saying anything. Sighing, Ezra gestured for her to follow them back to the storeroom.

"Two days ago, I was the guest of honor at a shotgun wedding. I need your assistance in acquiring an annulment."

"I see," Judge Travis lied. He turned to Marina. "And do you desire to have this marriage annulled?"

"Certainly not. I admit my cousin was hasty in forcing Mr. Standish to marry me, but what's done is done. That which God hath joined together, let no man put asunder," she quoted sanctimoniously.

"There appears to be a difference of opinion here. Why don't you tell me what happened?" the judge asked.

"We were attending a dance. I stepped outside for a cigar. Miss Henshaw –"

"Mrs. Standish," she corrected him.

" -came out for a breath of air. Her cousin regarded this coincidence as proof of an assignation. She tripped in the dark. I helped her to her feet. When her cousin saw me holding her, he insisted I'd compromised her virtue. His first reaction was to shoot me, but he eventually decided honor would be satisfied if I married the wench."

"You agreed to it," Marina reminded him.

"I had a gun in my face at the time," he pointed out. "And three guns trained on me during the entire ceremony. Doesn't that invalidate the wedding? Isn't there something in the law about vows given under duress not being binding?"

"Shotgun weddings are an informal, but recognized tradition," the judge replied.

"Well, can't the marriage be annulled since it hasn't been consummated?"

The judge looked up at him in surprise. "Mrs. Standish, I don't mean to embarrass you, but is what he says true? Has he taken you to the marriage bed yet?"

"Not yet," she admitted reluctantly, "but we've traveled together for two days and three nights as husband and wife. If that doesn't compromise me, I don't know what does. No one is going to believe that nothing happened."

"Especially with your reputation," the judge added.

"Separate hotel rooms," growled Ezra, who'd been forced to pay for double accommodations.

"Not the first night," she reminded him.

"I slept in the chair!"

The judge had to force himself not to laugh. "The lady appears willing to honor the contract, Mr. Standish. Marriage to a good woman could well be the making of you."

"Judge, you know I'm no fit husband for any decent woman," Ezra admitted, realizing he was throwing away any chance at Mary Travis if the judge bought this argument. "Miss H- Marina had a bad family situation. I can't blame her for seizing any opportunity to escape, but doesn't mean she should spend the rest of her life tied to me. I'm willing to make a financial settlement for," he thought quickly, "say six months, until she can marry a man of her own choice, or get a job and support herself."

"Mrs. Standish?" Judge Travis asked. He tried to hide his amusement. If Ezra Standish was willing to pay cash money to be rid of his wife, he was really desperate.

"I told you, I'm not willing to have your death on my conscience. If the Henshaws hear you cast me off, they'll consider that an insult to the family. They'll hunt you down and kill you."

Ezra bit his lip. There was a certain logic to her argument.

"Henshaws? Is that the family that owns nearly a third of Franklin County?" When Ezra and Marina both nodded, the judge continued, "I've heard reports of them - none of them good."

"Then your reports are accurate," Ezra said sourly. "Sir, since you blackma- persuaded me to become a part-time deputy, I have run every little errand you have asked of Mr. Larabee and the rest of us without complaint." _Without too many complaints_, he thought to himself. "Some of them at great risk to life and limb. Surely you owe me a favor."

"I need to speak to Mrs. Standish privately. Would you excuse us, please?" It was an order, not a request. Ezra had no choice but to obey. Once he was gone, the judge asked gently, "Were the two of you forced to marry against your will?"

Marina nodded.

"Ezra is a professional gambler and a saloon owner ... not the best possible husband for a decent woman. However, he is willing to release you. Men outnumber women three or four to one in this territory. You could probably find another husband - one of your own choice - within a month, if you wanted to."

"Reformed rakes make the best husbands." All the lurid novelettes she'd read aloud to Gram Henshaw had said so.

"Do you really think you could reform him?"

"Mr. Standish has been a perfect gentleman since I met him, so he can't possibly be as black as you're trying to paint him. And if he were, you wouldn't have deputized him as a peacekeeper," she pointed out. "Besides, I traveled with him without a chaperone across half the territory. Whether it's true or not, people will assume I'm a scarlet woman."

The judge thought over what she said. As rare as women were in the west, most men wouldn't mind an indiscretion or two in a lady's past. It was grief and love for his son Steven that kept Mary a widow, not lack of opportunity. "Are you sure you really want to keep him? You could easily do better than Ezra. An annulment now wouldn't be difficult, but if you waited, a legal separation would be much more difficult."

"Your Honor, didn't your mother ever tell you that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush? Could I really do that much better? I admit a rancher or a shopkeeper would be more respectable, but at least he's not a horsethief. He's a handsome man, and well-spoken. I could do worse. Much worse." She thought of her step-cousins, and was grateful for her escape.

"Are you sure, Mrs. Standish?"

"Quite sure," she said firmly.

The judge led her back to the front of the newspaper office, where Ezra was attempting to sidestep Mary's interrogation. "Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments," the judge quoted.

Ezra looked at him in horror.

"I am not going to grant you an annulment, nor will any other judge in the territory," the judge informed him.

"What about divorce?"

Judge Travis ignored him. "Mrs. Standish, may my wife and I treat you and your husband to dinner tonight to welcome you to town?"

"I'd be delighted, if it's all right with Mr. Standish." She looked up at Ezra.

Ezra knew the penalties for upsetting the judge. "Certainly."

"We'll meet you at the restaurant at 6:30, if that's convenient."

"We'd be delighted," Ezra echoed his wife. His tone belied his words. "Come, madam, let's get you settled at the hotel."

"No, Mr. Standish. Not at the hotel."

Ezra grabbed the carpetbags and led the way out of the _Clarion_ office, not willing to have a marital dispute in front of witnesses. "I live at the saloon - hardly a suitable setting for a lady."

"A wife's place is with her husband."

With an air of martyrdom, Ezra led the way to the saloon. When they got there, his six colleagues were waiting.

"I've never been in a saloon before," Marina said as she stepped through the batwing doors.

"Nor will you again. Henceforth you'll use the outside door to the upstairs," Ezra informed her sternly.

"Hey, Ez. Heard you got somebody special for us to meet," Vin Tanner teased.

"Is it true? Did you get married?" JD asked.

"Where's your manners, JD? Say howdy-do to the lady," Josiah instructed the boy. He touched his hat politely. The others did likewise.

"Gentlemen, may I present Mrs. Standish?" Ezra introduced her reluctantly.

"This must be Sheriff Dunne."

"Yes, ma'am," JD replied, surprised.

"And you must be Rev. Sanchez," she said to the tall man wearing the Cherokee amulet.

"Be honored if you just called me Josiah, ma'am."

"And you're Mr. Larabee?"

Yes'm. Chris Larabee," the tall blond man replied.

"I've already met Mr. Wilmington, so you must be Mr. Jackson," she said to the Negro healer. He nodded. "Mr. Standish told me all about you."

"Don't you go believing half of what Ezra said, ma'am," Buck warned her.

She nodded at the leather-clad, long haired tracker. "And Mr. Tanner."

Vin nodded back to her, but said nothing.

"It's a pleasure to meet your friends, Mr. Standish." She smiled at the seven.

"Mrs. Standish is tired from our trip. She needs to go upstairs and rest," Ezra informed his colleagues. And his wife.

"I confess I would like to wash up after so long on the road. I trust I'll be seeing you gentlemen again soon?"

"We'll be counting the minutes," Josiah replied.

"This way." Ezra led her upstairs.

"He talks almost as pretty as you do, Ezra," Marina said.

"If you'll agree to the annulment, you'd be free for him to court you," Ezra whispered. "You charmed all of them, and any one of them would make a better husband than I would.?"

"You don't value yourself highly enough, Mr. Standish."

As he took her to an empty room next to his own, Ezra reflected that she was one of the few people who thought so. "It's a little dusty."

"I'll soon put it to rights," she promised. "But where do you – "

"Until I completely give up hopes of an annulment or a divorce, Mrs. Standish, separate quarters."

"Judge Travis seemed quite determined," she reminded him.

"Yes, he did." He looked over his bride. Scrawny, red-haired, she was not at all his type. But unless he could think of something, she would be his companion for the next thirty or forty years. Eventually, propinquity would lead to a consummated marriage...which would make an annulment impossible. "Stay here and get settled. I'll be back in a bit."

"Yes, dear."

Ezra tried not to flinch at the endearment.


	4. Good Night, Mrs Standish

When Ezra got downstairs, he called Buck over to the bar. "Buck, let me buy you a drink. I need to talk to you."

"Ezra treating? He's got something up his sleeve," Chris Larabee warned.

Buck accepted the whisky. He drank half of it before asking, "What is it?"

"You have a certain knack with the ladies."

Buck nodded and took another sip of whisky.

"I'll pay you $200 to seduce my wife."

Buck spit out his whisky. "What?"

"I'll pay you $200 to seduce my wife," Ezra repeated.

"I've had men threaten me for not leaving their wives alone, but never offer to pay me to go after 'em."

"Three hundred dollars."

"Why?" Buck wondered.

"The judge won't annul the marriage. But if she commits adultery, then I'll have grounds for divorcing her, or else she'll divorce me because she wants out."

Buck laughed in his face. "You've only been gone a week. You can't have been married more'n a few days, and already you want a divorce?"

"Annulment, divorce, whatever it takes to regain my freedom."

"Why on Earth did you marry her, then?"

"Her next of kin thought I compromised her," Ezra admitted.

"Hey, Chris, come over here. You gotta hear this," Buck called.

Ezra poured himself another shot of whisky.

**MAGNIFICENT SEVEN ~*~*~ MAGNIFICENT SEVEN ~*~*~ MAGNIFICENT SEVEN**

"Mr. and Mrs. Standish, how nice to see you," the judge greeted them at the restaurant door. "You've met my wife, haven't you, Ezra? My dear, may I introduce Mrs. Standish?"

As the two ladies greeted each other, the judge drew Ezra aside. "I've been hearing some disquieting rumors from the saloon."

"You should never listen to barroom gossip, sir."

"If you don't treat that lady properly, you'll answer to me. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"That which God hath joined together, let no man put asunder," Judge Travis quoted. "Shall we go join the ladies?"

**MAGNIFICENT SEVEN ~*~*~ MAGNIFICENT SEVEN ~*~*~ MAGNIFICENT SEVEN**

After a somewhat strained dinner, Ezra walked Marina back to the saloon, leading her up the outer stairs to the top floor. "I don't want you going through the saloon. Always use the outside stairs."

"Yes, Ezra."

"If you want a husband to sit and read to you in the evenings while you knit, you'll be sadly disappointed. I have a business to run and evenings are my busy time."

"Yes, Ezra. I understand."

"Don't bother waiting up for me."

"Good night, Ezra," she said as he left her at her doorway.

Feeling guilty, he stopped at the head of the stairs and said, "Good night, Marina."

Downstairs, Ezra helped himself to a whisky. He'd been thinking and thinking, and he still couldn't find a way out of this mess. Judge Travis had made it quite clear that he could not only expect to maintain his marital status, but that he was to be downright uxorious. He poured another whisky. Maybe the alcohol would help him think.

What was he going to do with a wife? Especially a respectable maiden lady? The last time he'd bedded a virgin he'd been seventeen. He had long since learned to prefer the company of professional ladies, who regarded the situation as a matter of friendly commerce, or willing wives and widows who knew the rules the game was played by. He poured another whisky. Perhaps some Dutch courage.

**MAGNIFICENT SEVEN ~*~*~ MAGNIFICENT SEVEN ~*~*~ MAGNIFICENT SEVEN**

Two hours later, Josiah Sanchez carried Ezra's unconscious body upstairs.

Marina poked her head out the door. "Ezra?"

"He had a little bit too much, ma'am," Josiah explained unnecessarily.

"I see. Bring him in here."

Josiah hesitated. He knew perfectly well that Ezra's room was the next door over. Then he shrugged and followed her directions.

"Just lay him on the bed. I'll take care of him."

"Yes, ma'am." Josiah politely averted his eyes away from her, dressed only in a flannel nightgown. Her bedroom had been scoured clean since that afternoon. A handful of wildflowers sat in a glass of water on the table, next to her sewing. "You sure you don't want any help getting his boots off?"

"I'll manage. Thank you, Mr. Sanchez."

"Good night, Mrs. Standish."

**MAGNIFICENT SEVEN ~*~*~ MAGNIFICENT SEVEN ~*~*~ MAGNIFICENT SEVEN**

Ezra awoke the next morning, stark naked and in a strange bed. Disoriented, he sat up, and instantly regretted his action.

"Drink this," a vaguely familiar voice urged him.

There was a cup at his lip. He drank, then pushed it away. "That's horrible. Coffee. I need coffee."

"After you drink this."

His green eyes focused enough to see Rina bending over him. "What is it?"

"Something my cousins and stepbrothers swore by when they were hung over. You'd probably be happier not knowing what's in it," she advised. "Force it down."

He took the cup and gulped the foul mess. "That's terrible."

"Yes, but it works. Would you like some coffee now?"

"Please." He looked around and realized he was in her bedroom. "Where are my clothes?" he asked suspiciously.

"Already washed and hanging on the line. I brought a change of clothes for you from the other room."

"Would you mind leaving the room for a minute, or at least turning around whilst I don fresh attire?"

"After last night, is such modesty necessary?" she asked.

"Last night? Did we..."

She nodded mendaciously.

Ezra groaned. So much for an annulment. "Would you be kind enough to get me a cup of coffee? Better yet, just bring the pot."

"Of course, Ezra. I take it you don't want any breakfast yet?"

He shook his head. "I doubt I could keep it down. Perhaps later, thank you."

"I can have flapjacks ready as soon as you want,"she offered.

"I don't suppose you could manage omelettes?" he asked wistfully.

"Of course, Ezra, if you prefer."

He looked up at her, for the first time with a spark of interest in his eyes. "Coffee now, please, and omelettes in about an hour."

"Yes, Ezra." She hurried to obey him, knowing all he really wanted was some privacy to get dressed. She smiled as she went down to the kitchen. Her fib should save a lot of argument tonight. She hadn't lived with the Henshaws for thirteen years without learning how to get her way. And if it took French cooking and fibs to keep the man Providence had given her, then those were the tools she would use. Anything - even being married to a handsome stranger - was better than going back to the Henshaws.

And if the two of them didn't live happily ever after, it wouldn't be for lack of trying on her part.


End file.
